


Midsummer Nights

by Fallen_Angel_Euphorbion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Angst, Druid Stiles, Falling In Love, M/M, True Love, Warrior Derek, angst with Happy ending (kind of), if i tag proper i will spoil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_Angel_Euphorbion/pseuds/Fallen_Angel_Euphorbion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the festival of the solstice, Stiles meets Derek and both fall in love. But the love wont last long - Derek went missing....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midsummer Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my first story but the first fanfiction in english. Normally i write german fantasy stories but i wanted to write it in english. so hopefully you will like it. 
> 
> No beta read!!! So any misakes are my own

Stiles has always been a little rascal. Along with his best friend Scott he had many adventures as he grew up in a small village called Beacon Hills. Once they climbed the sheep of farmer Harris and pretended to be knights who fight against the dragon. Harris did not like this and threatened the two boys with spanking. Another time they played cops and robbers in the apple orchard of mayor Whittemore, but since no one wanted to play the bad one, they were both cops and chased Jackson, the son of the mayor through the orchard. Or they tried to protect Lady Lydia and Queen Allison from the evil wizard. Unfortunately, the magician had been Allison's father, the local hunter.

When time came to learn a craft from one of the local champions, the two scoundrels had made themselves unpopular with anyone who could have taught them something. No one wanted to teach Stiles, not even his own father, the captain of the garrison. Scott found a teacher, who grudgingly agreed to the training. But his daughter Allison, who had been together with Scott for a few moons could persuade her father. Stiles was not so lucky, either in training, even in women. His plan to save Lady Lydia, he had to give up after she announced her engagement to Jackson.

But Stiles life was about to change, as the old village healer began his final journey. A few days before the old man died, one of his former students came back to Beacon Hills. This man was Alan Deaton. He left many years ago, in search of knowledge and wisdom. Somehow he must have felt that his old master did not go well. Because one day he showed up out of nowhere. After Deaton had taken the place of the healer, he came to the house of Stiles and his father. His father and Deaton had a long talk behind closed doors and as both men ended their meeting, Stiles was the apprentice of the healer.

Somewhat reluctantly Stiles began his training, because he had not seen himself as a healer. However, after his father told him that his mother had also been a healer and wise woman, Stiles began to understand. He studied hard and sucked every little bit of knowledge that Deaton was offering him, was it an ancient scroll that began to crumble, or the knowledge of the use of lilies of the valley to strengthen the heart. Slowly Stiles' knowledge grew, he slowly became a druid. That is what Deaton called himself. Stiles learned the names of the full moon each month, to interpret the way the clouds and birds fly, the cultivation and care of herbs and ailments for which you could use them. He learned to recognize by the way a dam was walking in which month it was pregnant, which rituals and festivals were and what sacrifices or what meaning did these events have.

The end of his education came too quickly for him, but one day before the celebration of midsummer solstice Deaton acquitted him. He was a trained Druid, at the beginning of his way still learning, but a druid nonetheless. On the evening of the following day, the evening of the solstice, Stiles went through the ranks of the revelers. He congratulated Scott in concluding his hunter training and congratulated Allison to the ring on her finger. He drank a toast to Lydia and Jackson, both nodded in thanks. While the fire lit the sky and the villagers drank and partied, Stiles felt a tingling in his neck. He closed his eyes and listened to the night. When he opened his eyes, he saw bright green eyes. Eyes full of warmth and nostalgia. The eyes belonged to a young warrior. Tall, a three-day beard, black hair. The tingling spread in Stiles throughout his body, leaving a pleasant warmth.

As if by magic, the two men were standing in front of each other. The warrior reached out his hand and grabbed Stiles. The two of them danced together half the night. The rest they spent in talking and silent vows of love. The warrior, Derek his name, promised to return the next evening. They parted as dawn broke. The day went by very quickly and in the evening Derek appeared again and Stiles was overjoyed. They stayed the night by themself, kisses were distributed fingers brushed over skin.

Stiles woke up the next morning, alone. He longed for the evening, Derek would take him. Away from Beacon Hills. The evening came, but Derek didn't.

The whole night Stiles was waiting, full of hope. When morning dawned, Stiles was still waiting, hope and fear in his heart. Every day Stiles was waiting for Derek. With every day Derek did not appear, a part of Stiles slowly died. Days turned into weeks, became moons. When winter and frost arrived, the land froze and Stiles heart, too. His eyes not shining any longer, the wild boy was silent as the ice on the lake. Life in the village went on, but Stiles wasn't aware of anything. In the morning he went out of the house to the forest. He waited until the sun went down and when night came he went back home again. Neither his friends nor his father were able to get through to him. Even his master, Deaton, failed to reach him in this dark place at which Stiles was.

The old year went, a new ensued. The winter was followed by the spring, the nature awoke, began to live again, but not Stiles. Spring was gone and summer came. The sun was warmer by the day, but even she could not reach Stiles. With progression of the summer came the feast of the solstice. Everyone celebrated. Everyone, except for Stiles. He stood alone, enveloped in shadows and watched the goings-on.

Suddenly he saw green eyes at the edge of the forest.

Derek stood there and waved at him in silence.

Before Stiles could react, Derek turned and walked deeper into the forest. Slowly Stiles went after him. They crossed fields, the cries of owls the only sound. In silence Stiles followed Derek over hills. Mist rose and Derek paused suddenly. Stiles looked at him questioningly. With sad eyes Derek grabbed his hand and silently stepped aside. On the floor behind him was a stone. Stiles took a step to the stone and when he read the script, his blood froze.

_This hero died by enemy hands_ was carved into the stone.

Stiles slowly raised his head, his fingers stretched out for Derek. As the morning began to dawn, the sun's rays drove the fog away and with it Derek. Stiles fell down beside the stone, tears streaming down his face. Dripping onto the stone under which the man was who owned his heart . Roots grew from the ground, coated him. He became a mighty oak that guards the grave of the warrior.

Cometh the night of the summer solstice, the two lovers can be together again for a few hours and spend them arm in arm, until the sun wakes up.


End file.
